


What the Cat Dragged In

by queenhomeslice



Series: Polyship Roadtrip: Reader/Chocobros [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Chubby Reader, Curvy Reader, Eventual OT5, Explicit Sexual Content, Herbalist Reader, Multi, NOT beastiality, Natural Remedies, Nudity, OT4, OT5, Polyamory, Polyship Roadtrip, Sad Ending, Status Effects, cat bros, fat reader, kind of wicca I guess, kissing an animal, lotta sad shit here guys, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22270087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: You are an herbalist who lives in a small, remote village in Lucis. In the middle of the war with the Niflheim Empire, you come across four very curious cats in the woods surrounding your home.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia/Reader
Series: Polyship Roadtrip: Reader/Chocobros [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788748
Comments: 83
Kudos: 133





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way. 
> 
> ____  
> GOD FUCK. SHIT. MORE SHIT THAT I KEEP THINKING OF BECAUSE I CAN'T FINISH OTHER SHIT. 
> 
> No one asked for long-term cat status effects, but here we go I guess. Don't even ask me for a timeline on this cause Idk man. What am I even doing.

You close your door and hang the days’ new protective charms that you’ve crafted on the doorframe, whispering in Old Lucian and waving a barely-lit bundle of sage in specific movements in front of the door. You drop the smoldering bundle on the stone doorstep and adjust the large, woven basket on your arm, satisfied that your modest hovel will be safe from daemons until you return from the market. You flip the sign on the doorknob from _open_ to _closed_ so that the other villagers will know to come back later for their various cures and spells. Drawing your knitted shawl over your shoulders in the steady breeze, you begin the short walk out of the woods and into town. 

The day is mostly peaceful, birds chirping and wild animals lounging around, grazing—well, peaceful with the exception of Niff dropships flying low overhead. You shake your head and sigh, wondering what will become of Prince Noctis. The headlines said he and the Oracle were dead, but you know better than to believe every headline that comes over the radio. Walking through the last secluded grove before the forest opened up into more open terrain, you spot movement in a small patch of flowers. Curious, you wander over and crouch down in the middle of the bright blossoms. 

Chirping quietly to each other as if in heated debate are four very distinct cats. One is a sleek black, with dark blue eyes and a sleepy expression; the other is a bright yellow, with spots almost like a coeurl, he’s got violet-blue eyes and he’s turning in circles, as if full of a nervous energy he doesn’t know how to expel; the third is a beautiful sandy-blond color with piercing green eyes and faint brown marks around his eyes, as if he’s wearing glasses; and the fourth is significantly larger than the others, a rich chocolate brown with honey-amber eyes and a faint scar over his left eye. 

The cats fall silent in their private meows and turn to you hesitantly as you kneel down in the soft, dewey grass. “Hi babies” you say softly, patting your wide lap. “Are you lost? Come here, it’s okay, I won’t hurt you...” 

The three smaller cats look to the large brown cat and after a few more quick mewls, the chocolate cat slowly approaches your outstretched hand and nuzzles into it, purring almost instantly. 

“Oh, what a good boy,” you coo as the large feline dips his head more into your hand, drawing closer until he’s perched into your lap. “Are you the protector of this merry little troop?” you giggle; the fact that the cats had deliberated whether you were safe or not is not lost on you. “Or are you a girl?” 

The chocolate cat meows heartily and you snort. “Okay, okay, boy. I get it. Are you all boys?” 

Surprisingly, the other three cats squeak in affirmation and, trusting their larger friend, approach you and begin to purr and arch their backs, rubbing against you. You curse the gods for only giving you two hands, but in the end, you seem to have successfully manhandled all four of them. Satisfied, they line up in a row in front of you, eyeing you with a certain amount of trust. 

“Do you have names, I wonder?” you ask, tapping your chin. You look to the black one and reach out—he falls limp in your hands as you gently lift him and give his petite body a once-over. “Black as night,” you say as you bring him close to your face. He licks your nose and stares into your face with his wide blue eyes. “I’ll call you Noctis, after the prince. You do know about the prince, don’t you? He always wears black, like his hair. And he’s got blue eyes, too. A handsome guy. Yes, a fitting namesake for his Highness, wherever he is. I hope he’s safe.” 

The cat begins to chatter happily, making you giggle as you set him back down. He trots to his friends. The petite spotted blond doesn’t even wait for you to grab him—he bounds up into your lap immediately, rubbing against your chest and tummy, purring happily. 

“You’re quick to give love, huh little buddy?” You lift the yellow feline up and he lets you, just like Noctis; you look deep into his pretty violet-blue eyes and he squeaks happily. “Yes, quick...Quicksilver? Ah, but you’re yellow...hmmmm...quick....prompt...Prompto! I’ll call you Prompto. Does that sound okay?” 

Prompto begins howling in appreciation, licking your fingers and purring as you set him down. He saunters back to Noctis and the two begin grooming each other and meowing quietly. 

“You guys are a talkative bunch of kitties, aren’t you?” You look to the green-eyed feline and pat your lap, and he slowly approaches. There’s something about this one—a quiet reserve, but his steady gaze holds so much more communication than his animal sounds every could. He lets you lift him; he’s a bit larger than the other two, but not as large as the brown boy. Miraculously, he lets you cradle him in your arms like a baby; but his intense green pupils never leave your face, gaze almost pleading with you for some unknown thing. He purrs quietly as you hold him in your arms. “You’ve got a quiet fire inside of you, huh boy? Hm. Fire...Ignis. I think I’ll call you Ignis.” 

The green-eyed cat almost nods as he closes his eyes and yawns. You set him down and he goes to the others, nuzzling up to Noctis and Prompto, who have tangled themselves into a sleepy pile of fur. You smile warmly at the large chocolate cat; but before you can reach out to grab him, he sprints away across the field, returning with a crushed flower in his mouth. You realize that these cats are special, but you can’t figure out why. The burly chocolate long-hair drops the flower into your lap and stands on your legs with his front two paws, meowing and purring happily as you scratch his ears and lift the blossom. 

“Gladiolus,” you say quietly, looking to the large cat. “Your name is Gladiolus. But I’ll call you Gladio for short.” 

Gladio licks your hand in affirmation as he goes back to his friends and sits. 

“So, four cats. Noctis, Prompto, Ignis, and Gladio. You’re all very friendly, and pretty smart.” Ignis snaps to attention as you begin speaking and pats at Noctis and Prompto with his paw, goading them into slowly rising. They yawn and sit on their haunches, waiting for you to continue. “Gladio, you’re the largest, and the protector. Ignis, you seem to be the leader. Prompto and Noctis look like they’re best friends—but I can tell that all of you are close. There’s something about you four that I just can’t put my finger on, but you’re definitely the most unusual cats I’ve ever seen.” 

Ignis meows, as if prompting you to continue. 

“I’m an herbalist, and I live in this forest. My house is that way.” You point, and all four of the cats turn their heads in the direction of your hand. “I was on my way to the market for some groceries and supplies. Do you want to come live with me for a while?” 

The four cats look at each other; Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio rise and stretch, and the boys form a circle and begin to meow amongst themselves. You wait patiently as they counsel, and then finally, Ignis steps forward and begins to talk in happy little chirps. 

“I’ll take that as a yes, then, Ignis,” you say as you give his head a few pats and stand up to full height. “Follow me to market, then, boys? Maybe you can pick out a fish or two for dinner.” 

That comment prompts Noctis to scream happily as he circles your legs, purring. 

“Okay, definitely fish fans, then. C’mon,” you say, patting your legs. “Town’s this way, not far.” 

You’re used to getting the occasional odd stare as you make your way into the small village—most people are cordial but reserved, but there are a select few of them who regard you as a wicked witch, rather than just a person practicing natural medicine. The cats pause curiously as you cross the bridge of a small, full creek and start to descend into town. 

“C’mon boys!” you call, patting your upper thigh. 

The four cats slowly follow you, and immediately, you hear the whispers under breath. “Witch’s got herself some familiars now, I reckon.” “Bet she put a spell on some poor souls who just tried to ask her for help.” “Would she really do that? She seemed so nice.” “Can’t trust these magic types, gods help us. You never know.” 

You roll your eyes as you make your way into the village square. It’s always curious to see a mixture of rural and urban—there are some chain restaurants, like Kenny Crow’s Crow’s Nest, and a gift shop selling merchandise from Wiz’s Chocobo Ranch, which is only about half a day’s drive; but there are also large plots of crops, and most of the townsfolk here are farmers, and not too rich. There’s a stone wall around the village, and the various farms and farmhouses and stables are built close around it. The town is a weird mix of modern technology—the sports bar with 72-inch tvs, the video game store selling the latest console—and medieval fiefdom—cobblestone streets, saddled chocobos pulling carts of vegetables to sell at makeshift wooden stalls, the fact that only about a hundred people make enough money to own cars. 

It’s strangely beautiful scenery, actually—vast, rolling plains dotted with hay bales and cows and sheep and chickens, a few chocobos and other domesticated wild creatures...but in the distance, just visible over the horizon, is a newly-erected imperial base, Niflheim flag flying high in the cloudy sky. 

You roll your eyes at it and duck into the apothecary, holding the door open for the four boys to follow you in. 

“Mornin’ missus,” the shop owner greets. Questus is one of the few villagers who doesn’t treat you like a pariah. “Out o’ yer supplies?” 

“How’d you know,” you chuckle. “My usual reserves, if you please,” you say as you dig in your satchel for the right amount of gil, plus the little bonus that you always give him to stay in his good favor. You turn to the cats, who are meandering slowly around the shop, sniffing and playing with each other around the tables of glass vials and stacks of old, dusty books. 

“Found some friends, I reckon,” says Questus as he emerges from the back with several small boxes of dried herbs and vials of liquids. 

“Oh, uh...” You hesitate to tell the whole story, much less the cats’ names. Especially the black one that you’ve named after the missing prince—with Niflheim such a close presence, you want to stay as under the radar as you can. “Yeah, they just kinda followed me here from the woods. I’ve put a spell on them to make them more docile and friendly.” 

“Hmmm,” chuckles Questus. “Yer a strange one, lass. But here’s yer stash. Whip up more o’ that hair tonic for me Uncle Alexander, he says it’s workin’ mighty fine.” 

You nod and smile. “Will do. Tell him to come visit me at the end of the week. C’mon, babies,” you call to the cats as you step into the street. 

Questus smirks eerily as you exit the shop, long gray hair suddenly flashing a deep crimson-purple. 

You make your way to the stalls next, picking up a healthy amount of vegetables, some meat from the local butcher, and some fabric, needles, and thread. Your last stop is the fishmonger—there's a lake about half a day’s walk from the town, and Nova always manages to catch the biggest and best. You smile at the petite redhead as you approach, the four cats immediately start chirping and rubbing on your legs, purring. 

“Hey Nova,” you say as you nod. “I’ve picked up some furry friends. What fish do you think they’d like best?” 

Nova leans over the front of her fish display to look at the odd herd of cats around your skirt. “Gosh, ya really do have some friends, ain’t it sweet! Look at em, pretty babies! Well, how about a nice salmon? Caught some just this mornin’.” She squats down and opens a large blue ice chest, holding up two shining fish in her hands. “I’ll cut ya a deal. Twenny gil, an’ I’ll even skin it, no cost.” 

“Perfect. Thanks Nova.” You hand over the money and watch as Nova guts and cleans the scales from the fish, chopping the meat up into perfectly-portioned fillets. She wraps them in layers of paper and hands them over. 

“Much obliged, sweet. I’ll be by over morrow for that skin oil.” 

“Sounds great!” You place wrapped fish in your now-heavy basket and crouch down to scratch at Prompto’s ears. “Fish for dinner, boys! I can tell you’re excited. C’mon, let’s go home.” 

As you make your way back out of town, greeting those who do say hello, your heart sinks as you watch an imperial dropship settle down outside of the town's wall. The back opens up to reveal legions of heavily armed soldiers, led by a shorter blond man and an armored woman with silver hair. Your heart sinks as you watch them cross the fields, farmers and field workers cowering in terror, trying to move the animals away to a safe distance. You start walking faster, almost running by the time you’re crossing the stone bridge. “C’mon, boys. Let’s hurry.” 

But the cats seem to need no pushing from you—they're running ahead into the woods at top speed. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why is the empire at your doorstep? And why do these four cats seem halfway to human?

Night has fallen, and the boys are curled by the big stone fireplace, happy and warm and full of fish. You’re sitting cross-legged on the thick furs and blankets on the floor, reading. Gladio and Ignis rise and stretch as you shift positions to keep your leg from falling asleep. They start to rub their faces on the corner of the book. 

“You like books, huh kitties? Such smart boys,” you chuckle as you turn the page to a new chapter. “Do you want me to read to you?” 

Gladio purrs happily as he boops his forehead on your cheek; Ignis responds by licking your fingers. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” You clear your throat and begin to read the romantic fiction novel out loud as the two larger cats curl up close to you, their soft fur making you even warmer than you already are. An hour goes by, possibly two, and the fire starts to die. You wiggle yourself from your furry friends and mark your place in the novel, yawning as you head into the bathroom to do your nightly routine. 

In the middle of the night, you wake up from a nightmare, drenched in sweat and heart pounding. You fumble for the lamp beside your bed and the glass of water on the bedside table—with shaky fingers, you manage to take a few sips. You look around your mostly-dark room—nothing seems awry, but you can’t help but feel chilled to the bone, even though the small electric space heater is plugged up and working fine. All four boys have wandered their way to your bed—the closest to you is Prompto, who’s sleeping on the pillow that’s right next to yours. He turns with a quiet squeak and eyes you with concern as you rustle around. You reach out to pet him and he leans in happily, more than content to let you drag your hands all over his head, ears and neck. 

“I’m okay, Prom,” you say softly. “Just a bad dream, that’s all.” 

Prompto pulls away at that, and motions his head towards Noctis, who’s dead to the world. 

“Noct gets nightmares too sometimes? Poor baby,” you say as Prompto meows sadly and nuzzles your hand. 

A sudden flash of shadow in the moonlight catches your attention, and you stare out of the window, but it doesn’t appear again. Nervous, but soothed by Prompto’s quiet purring as he settles next to your head, you fall back asleep, lamp light casting soft light over your bed’s corner of the room. 

The next day is pretty uneventful—you start the day by walking around the perimeter of the small wooded acre, waving sage and chanting charms. The boys curiously follow you, running around the open grove and wrestling, using the bathroom, chasing butterflies and pouncing on field mice. You’re content to leave your door open for a while to cool the house down a little—it's warmer today than yesterday. You settle in the back room of your house with your purchases from the apothecary, mixing dried herbs into various oils and gels to create your natural healing ointments and tonics. The cats are in and out; you’d set out the leftover fish from the day before, along with a bowl for water—the cats are grateful, and you idly think about running back into town to the grocer and getting a proper bag of cat food for the poor lost darlings. 

You hum as you work, the hours ticking by without much incident. Before you realize it, it’s lunch time, and you think it strange that you haven’t had any visitors today. You usually have at least two or three in the morning. Gladiolus jumps up onto your work bench and sniffs his namesake flowers that you’ve just crushed under your mortar and pedestal, meowing quizzically. You stroke his long fur and explain. “I like to use gladiolus in my homemade soaps,” you coo as you pet the large, happy boy. “I find that they cure skin ailments rather well.” You stop mixing the flowers and the oils and sigh. “I am curious about all of you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you were under some sort of spell. Potion? Curse? Your movements and team dynamic are almost human. I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

Gladio gives a few chirps. 

“And it’s like you all can actually understand what’s going on. Like you can understand what I’m saying.” 

Gladio purrs a bit louder, then turns in circles and settles right in front of you, across all of your materials. 

“You big baby!” you laugh as you ruffle his fur. Gladio just yawns and stretches long and wide, showing you his thick underbelly. As you pet his soft fur—which, okay, weird, most cats don’t allow that—you start to really wonder if you’re going crazy, or if these cats really are something _more_. Curious, too, how the imperials seemed to show up to your backwater town on the exact day that you’d found the four cats lost in the wild. 

You’re brought out of your reverie by heavy pounding on your door. Gladio rises slowly, actually being careful not to upset too much of your work, and leads you to the living room. A strange man in too many layers of clothing and a wide-brimmed fedora is leaning on your doorjamb, eyeing the bunches of flowers and herbs hanging from your ceiling, the various vibrant houseplants and creeping vines on the windowsills. 

“Can I help you, sir? I’m the village herbalist, specializing in natural remedies for common ailments.” You’re suddenly very on edge, and before you can walk any further, Gladio sits on your feet. You stay frozen to your spot. 

“Ah! Pardon the intrusion, my dear,” the man says, with sweeping flair as he tips his hat and bows dramatically. “Perhaps you’ve heard of me—Ardyn Izunia, of Niflheim?” 

You can’t do much more than give a slight bow at the waist due to Gladio’s insistence on sitting on your feet. “The Imperial Chancellor,” you say quietly. “Of course. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You’re inwardly cringing. To even address him with such forced hospitality is taking a lot out of you. 

The chancellor looks at Gladio with a creepy interest—the large brown cat actually rears back and hisses. You glance around the room, and finally spot the other three, loafing quietly behind a large basket of blankets. You make eye contact with Ignis, and you can swear that his sharp green eyes are telling you to be careful about what you say. 

“Quite a protective little friend you have there,” says Ardyn as he steps into your living room. As he does so, your house seems to actually move, and you smirk—the charms that you’ve put in place to ward off evil are responding. You know that you cannot trust him. Beyond the open door, you see the blond-haired general and the silver-haired woman standing with a small squad of troops, but they’re repeatedly banging their fists against the veil that you’d erected earlier. Ardyn is more powerful than he seems, you warn yourself, if he’s been able to penetrate your defenses. 

“He’s my familiar,” you lie. 

“Hmmm, a witch, then,” says Ardyn, reaching up to finger a bunch of dried flowers hanging from the rafters. 

“An _herbalist_ ,” you say again. “Chancellor, have you come for a potion of some sort? Is there anything you _need_?” 

Ardyn stares long and hard at you, and at Gladiolus, who flattens his ears and snarls as Ardyn makes his way around the room, inspecting everything he can get his creepy little hands on. When he approaches the basket of blankets, Ignis, Noctis, and Prompto scurry to the other side of the room in a flash—Ignis turns toward Ardyn and hisses before cocking his head at Gladio and following the other boys to the bedroom. 

“Oh dear,” says Ardyn, all sickly-sweet. “I seemed to have frightened more of your friends.” 

“Also my familiars,” you say. “They change shape. Usually they’re birds.” 

“Hm,” says Ardyn, tapping his chin. He walks around a bit more, then finally makes his way to the door. “Well met, then, Madame Herbalist. Good day.” Ardyn tips his hat and walks outside. You rush to the door as soon as Gladio sees fit to move from your feet, slamming it shut and locking it, sliding down to your ass against the wooden door, burying your head in your hands. 

“Did you _see_ him, Gladio? The stench of the Starscourge was all over him. And the fact that he made it through my veil?” You sniff hard and look up at the large brown cat. “Was he looking for you? For all of you? Are you some kind of...experiment? I’d heard rumors of Niff scientists doing some sort of genetic modifications on their own people, but...” 

The cat cocks his head and meows quietly. 

“Well, whatever you are, I’m determined to find out. Don’t worry. I won’t let them get you.” 

Gladio meows happily and trots toward the bedroom. 

Sighing, and realizing that the imperial blockade around your cottage is probably the reason you didn’t make any money today, you follow him. 

Another funny thing about the four cats is that whenever you use the bathroom, shower, change clothes, or do anything that involves you getting partially or fully nude, the cats scurry under the bed or out of the room—well, except for Gladio, who just sits in the room until Ignis rears up and hisses at him, shooing him out. If that doesn’t convince you that the cats are more than mere felines, then nothing will. You chuckle as you open the bathroom door, steam billowing out. You hadn’t showered the night before, and even though Ardyn hadn’t physically touched you, you still feel slimy just from him being in your house. You make a mental note to sweep later, and to oil your wooden floors with your best herbal blends. You feel much better now, hair twisted up into a towel, with another one knotted around your thick body. For one, you’re actually grateful for the cats—your family considered them to be good luck charms, and these felines are attentive and smart and loving. You plop down on the bed, and tentatively, the cats saunter one by one back into the room and climb on the bed. Noctis meows the loudest, climbing up on you and loafing on your ample chest, purring. You rub his head and smile. 

“Hey buddy. You okay? I know that big bad man gave us a fright. I’ll protect you as best as I can, don’t worry.” 

Noctis opens his mouth and meows again loudly, then snaps his jaw shut with a huff, as if he’s annoyed that he can’t say what he means. He tucks his head down and closes his eyes. 

Content to let the cat rest, you fall into a light doze in just your towel, with all four boys nestled close around you. You feel safe and warm and protected. 

Later that evening, as you’re cooking a large pot of stew on your gas stove, dressed in your homemade linen pajamas, you look over to the discounted yards of fabric you’d gotten at the small general store. Black, purple coeurl-print, and crimson plaid flannel. You idly wonder if the cats would sit still enough for you to take their measurements. You add more seasonings to the pot, taste it, and put the lid on, killing the flame to a low simmer. You walk over to the kitchen table, unrolling the few yards of black you’d purchased, then whistle and call for Noctis. 

The cat is on the table instantly, chirping in curiosity, eyeing the flannel and the sewing supplies on the table with interest. 

“Hey buddy—want a sweater? I’m itching to make something.” 

The small black cat actually gives a little grin as he slowly blinks, stepping onto the fabric and standing perfectly still as you wrap your measuring tape around his middle, his legs, and his neck. 

“Good boy,” you coo as you scribble his measurements down. 

Noctis tilts his head then jumps from the table, meowing loudly. Within seconds, the other three are on the kitchen table, allowing you to drag the tape around their stocky little bodies as well. 

“Hey, thanks Noct! That way I didn’t have to call for everyone separately,” you giggle as you take out the white chalky pencil and begin to freehand the boys’ shirts onto the fabric. 

Noctis chirps in thanks as you rise from the table to kill the fire on the stew. 

“So, will you guys eat anything? Or just fish?” 

Ignis responds, meowing quietly and turning circles around your feet, moving then to stand on his hind legs as you put oven mitts on your hands and carry the pot to the other end of the table, serving four bowls. It’s a simple roast, with onions, potatoes, and carrots—but the cats dig in like it’s fine dining. Well...except for Noct, who just eats the meat and refuses the carrots and potatoes. Ignis meows at him, seemingly annoyed, as you just laugh and watch the black cat jump from the table. 

“Doesn’t eat his veggies, huh Iggy? What a brat.” 

Gladio screeches in agreement. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis provides some answers to their problem--but will it be enough to cure the four cats?

Two days later and your life is relatively back to normal. The empire has moved on from your tiny village, their curiosity satisfied; your customers are keeping their regular appointments. Nova comes in for her skin oil and the sugar scrub that rids her hands of the fish smell—she brings the four furry boys two trout as payment, which have them rubbing up on the friendly fishmonger. Questus comes by for his uncle’s hair tonic; a child’s sore throat, treated with elderberry syrup and honey; severe burns from a bonfire treated with aloe vera. The cats watch you work with your clients in rapt fascination, their knowing eyes never leaving you as you work. 

Late afternoon finally arrives, and satisfied with the coin you’ve made today, you flip your door sign to closed. You cook yourself some vegetables and a few pieces of the fish Nova had brought as payment; but for the cats, you opt to do something different. You’d been pouring over every book you had in your library—studying various enchantments, spells, charms, status effects, curses, and any other magical subject you had literature on. There was _nothing_ you could find that mentioned long-term status effects as a cat; no known daemon had ever turned an enemy into a cat; and the recordings of other witches, wiccans, herbalists, and etc. had never turned anyone into a cat for more than a few hours, and not for at least a hundred years. There was one thing you were willing to try—covered in dust in the back of your cabinet was a Maiden’s Kiss. You decide to enchant the cats’ food with your best-known counter-curses. You add cooked fish and vegetables to your food processor, along with the magic potion and a few of your dried herb blends to make a fish pâté for the boys. You whisper charms over the food and divide it up into bowls, giving them fresh water along with their meal. 

The boys are looking rather smart in their little flannel sweaters, if you’re being honest with yourself. Frost has started to cover the ground, and when they go out picking herbs and flowers with you, you want to make sure that they don’t get too chilled. Noctis and Gladio are in all black; Prompto is in crimson plaid; and Ignis is in the purple coeurl-print. You’ve attached little zippers to the back so that the boys can get themselves out of the clothes if you’re not around to undress them, but they seem all the happier that you’re willing to give them such care. 

You set the charmed pâté bowls on the floor next to their fresh water, and the boys eat it rather greedily—after about ten minutes, nothing is left, and they’re all yawning and curled up by the fire. You take a small pair of scissors and cut a little tuft of fur from each of their backs and put it into one of your large mixing bowls, along with various dried plants and oils. Drinking it, you fall into one of your deep sleeps, desperately hoping for a vision about the cats as you slip into unconsciousness. 

______ 

_You awake in a vast field of_ _sylleblossoms_ _. In the distance, you see a blonde girl in white, and a black-haired boy in a wheelchair. They’re making flower crowns._

_The vision shifts. In the Citadel, a small boy with green eyes and glasses is shaking hands with the black-haired boy._

_Flung through space and time yet again, you watch a chubby blond with a green wristband take pictures of animals. He starts running. He's caring for an injured puppy. He knows the black-haired boy._

_The_ _last foggy_ _scene: a tall, proud boy is training with a heavy sword. He gets knocked down, but always rises again. His father, square-jawed and stoic, next to the king, looks on. The black-haired boy is the king’s son._

_________

“Bbbbbrrrrrrrpppp?” 

You awake to the feel of soft fur on your arms and rough tongues on your cheeks. You blink slowly, bitter taste of plants and cat hair in your mouth. You cough and raise your head—Prompto and Noctis are the closest to you, drawing back from licking you awake. Ignis and Gladio are sitting on the table. You study the cats closely as you sit up and start to pet all of them. 

“I’m all right, boys. Was dinner good?” But inwardly, you’re frowning. If a Maiden’s Kiss didn’t break the spell, then what would? Your visions suddenly come back to you and you stare at the cats, wide-eyed. “You all—you _are_ the prince and his retainers!” 

The three of them look at Ignis and the green-eyed cat meows in agreement. 

“I wish you could tell me what happened,” you say as Prompto nuzzles into your hand. “You all have been through so much, haven’t you? Noct, your father, King Regis...I’m so sorry.” You reach out to stroke the prince’s ears and he purrs, leaning into it. “Hey,” you say, looking at them. “Can you blink once for yes and twice for no?” 

They all blink once, and you smile. “Fantastic. Okay. Were you cursed?” 

_No._

“Hm. Status effect from a daemon?” 

_No._

“Magic potion gone wrong?” 

_Yes._

“Aha! Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” 

The other three squint at Noctis, who looks down rather sheepishly. 

“Oh, so the prince mixed a potion wrong. I see. Well, I mixed a Maiden’s Kiss in with dinner, and that didn’t seem to help.” 

Ignis cocks his head and steps up to you, licking your nose. 

You giggle and scratch his ears. “I swear I’m going to cure you. Good news, though. Ardyn seems to have left town, so we’re safe for the time being.” 

Gladio meows heartily. 

“You were so brave the other day, big guy,” you say fondly, scratching under his chin. “My big handsome protector.” 

Even through his cat status, Gladio stands tall and puffs out his chest. The other three make affectionate noises and rub up against him. 

You take a long drink of water from the cup beside you and place your seeing bowl to the side. 

“It’s late, and we’ve all had a long day. I think it’s time for bed.” You pick Prompto up and he immediately snuggles into you, the rest of the boys chirping happily and following as you pad barefoot to the bedroom. 

The next morning is a lazy one. You’re not expecting any visitors today, so you dress quickly and charm the perimeter of the glade, and in front of your door. You let the boys roam outside for a while, leaving the kitchen window open for them to jump through. You’re still racking your brain with how to heal the prince and his friends when the prince himself crawls into your lap. You’re snuggled on your couch, and the fire is going, the house smelling of warm lavender and citrus thanks to your various homemade candles set around the living room. 

“Hey your Highness,” you coo quietly, petting Noctis as he begins to make biscuits on the thick blanket that’s on top of you. He’s not dressed in his sweater, so you’re reveling in the feeling of his silky black fur. As you’re kneading the skin on his back, your fingers dance across a series of barely-detectable ridges in his skin. “Noct, buddy. What happened?” 

Noctis looks at you and squeaks quietly. 

“Oh, that’s--the imperial attack, when you were little. That’s right—the wheelchair. Tenebrae.” 

Noctis blinks yes and hangs his head. 

“It’s okay, Noct. You’re still a handsome boy.” You shift a little, lifting the lightweight cat and pressing a series of small kisses to his back. You set him back down on your lap and continue to read. “I wonder if your hair is this silky in real life. I wonder if you’ll let me feel.” 

Noctis stands still for a minute, then crawls up under your chin, forcing you to turn your head to the side. He’s purring louder than you’ve ever heard him. 

“Pretty boy,” you say, stroking his head and kissing it. “I’m going to help you. I promise.” 

The next is busy with more clients and their medical needs, so you don’t have much time to play with the boys—or figure out how to cure them—until later afternoon. You realize that the situation must be getting dire—the boys somehow seem less attentive and understanding, and more like regular cats. It takes you much longer to communicate with them in your own limited way. An idea comes to you after you’ve showered for the evening. You gather blank sheets of paper and draw large letters on them, the whole alphabet, and spread them out on the floor in order. You call for Ignis and he comes bounding up to you, rubbing against your legs as you sit cross-legged on the floor with a notebook in your hand. 

“Hey Iggy,” you say as he purrs and sits by your side, eyeing the paper letters curiously. “Can you spell?” 

Ignis gives a worried chirp but looks at you with a certain amount of understanding. He stares at the letters for a long time and then, slowly but surely, spells out _SOS,_ and another two words that make your stomach drop: _Losing self._

You swallow thickly as Ignis leaves the giant paper keyboard and climbs into your lap nuzzling your chest. You sigh heavily and scratch his ears. “Been a cat for too long, huh? I’ve noticed that.” You sniff, the tears starting to fall without you realizing it. “I’ve tried everything. I just don’t. I don’t know how to reverse the effects of Noct’s potion.” 

Ignis chirps and licks your hand. 

“Back to reading, I guess. Thanks for the help, Iggy. C’mon. Let’s start from scratch in my books.” 

Now that you know you’re on a time crunch, lest the prince and his friends turn into cats forever, you’re even more determined to find an answer to their furry little problem. It’s a long, sleepless night, and eventually you pass out on your desk in the early morning, dusty tomes and old parchment spread out around you, four worried boys curled up on top of each other, snoring lightly. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You figure out that the prince is after his ancestors' royal arms; and, finally, there's a clear solution to the boys' furry little problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooooo, thank you so much for your patience! We're finally on the verge of smut territory here, lol. I will update the rating and the tags accordingly. Enjoy!

“You know,” you say, coming out of the bathroom, finally fully dressed for the day. “I wonder if the Niffs were poking around here because of that ancient tomb that’s nearby?” 

“Brrrrrpppppp?” 

You turn and look at Noctis, who’s standing at attention on the bed, small black tail all bottlebrushed and stiff. You hang your hair towel on the doorknob and walk to the bed, where all four boys have taken up their morning nap—well, except for the prince. “That catch your interest, Highness?” You pick up the small raven-colored cat and cradle him, and Noctis relaxes instantly, purring up a storm. You hold him and kiss him for several minutes as you pace back and forth. 

“Iggy,” you say, leveling your gaze at the sandy-colored feline. “Blink for yes and no.” 

Ignis chirps and rolls over, blinking awake and yawning. 

“Are you guys looking for the royal tombs?” 

_Yes._

“Collecting the weapons of the ancient rulers of Lucis? I’ve heard of those. Axe of the Conqueror, Sword of the Tall...yes, my grandmother used to tell me stories as a girl, in-between tarot readings. She was a fortune-teller, you know. And my mother dabbled in it, but she was much more interested in medicine. Which, as you can guess, is where I get my knack from. Of course, I’ve done the occasional reading, but, it’s much less profitable than hair tonic.” 

Noctis chirps long and loud. 

You giggle. “Don’t worry Noct, I haven’t snuck anything else into your dinner.” 

Ignis sneezes. 

“Gods bless you,” you say as you walk over to the adviser, reaching out to stroke his ears. Ignis stands and stretches as you touch him, sharp green eyes staring into yours with longing. “Would you like me to take you to the tomb? However, it’s half a day’s walk—we might get stuck overnight. And with the daemons...I’m not much of a fighter. I can shoot a crossbow all right, but that’s one at a time, and with me up in a tree from a vantage point. Not sure I could take out a horde of monsters.” 

Gladio lets out a remorseful noise. 

“I’m sure if you were human, it’d be no trouble for you, big guy,” you sigh as you put Noctis down and pick up Prompto, who immediately falls limp in your arms as he snuggles over your shoulder, nosing his head behind your damp hair. 

Ignis begins to meow incessantly. 

“Sorry, Iggy,” you shake your head. “I don’t own a car—and I’m not sure anyone around here has one with daemon-repelling headlights. I could borrow a chocobo to ride, but I wouldn’t want to put someone else’s bird in danger...” 

Noctis cocks his head at Ignis and the two exchange heated noises. 

You sigh again. “Am I really talking to you guys, or am I just making shit up? It makes sense for you to want to collect your forebears’ weapons, but for what...” 

Prompto makes a low noise in his throat as you stroke his back. 

“To reclaim your kingdom, of course. To curry favor with the gods. You were on your way to Altissia, right? But the Imperial embargo...” You stand there and cradle Prompto, guessing at the boys’ destiny, cobbled together from headlines that you’d heard over the radio or read in passing at the newspaper stand. You set Prompto down on the bed and sit yourself, all four boys coming to lie close to you. You idly scratch Gladio’s ears and head as you close your eyes and meditate, trying to glean what information you can with your intuition. 

After several minutes, you open your eyes and look at the boys. “If I take you to the tomb, do you think it will lift the curse?” 

Ignis makes a sad whine. 

“No, huh?” You stand up suddenly, determined. All four cats watch you intently. “I can be brave, for you, Highness. I’ll go to my friend Stella, the farmer who lives at the edge of town. I’m sure she’d lend me a chocobo. She’s never abandoned faith in your father, Noct; nor you. I’ll ready my crossbow. If it’s the ancient tomb you want to see, then it’s the ancient tomb you’ll get.” 

An hour later, one of Stella’s best chocobos is squawking softly as it nuzzles at the four cats who are playing around its giant talons. You’ve dressed in your best adventure gear—cargo pants, a thermal top, rugged boots and a long, hooded cloak. The bird is weighed down with food and various tools, some elemental magic flasks you managed to quickly brew, and protective charms; plus a map, arrows for your crossbow, and a tarp for makeshift shelter. You’ve reinforced the magic veil and the protective charms around your little clearing of the woods. The boys are dressed in their little zippered sweaters to help ward off the elements; and with your crossbow strapped to your back, hair tightly braided and under a stocking cap, and Noctis nestled safely in the soft fabric papoose wrapped around your ample bosom, you saddle the chocobo and start off through the forest, with Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis in a saddle bag of their own, peeking out through the sturdy leather flap as the trees pass. 

The chocobo glides quickly through the trees, warm sunlight on your backs as the frosty morning passes by. You stop at the edge of the forest to eat and let the boys stretch their legs and catch lunch of their own—and no later than an hour or so past noon, you’re exiting the forest and coming up on wild open plains, wandering herds of animals in sight. The entrance to the tomb is nestled in the side of a small hill, its crumbling stone entrance a testament to how old it is. There’s a pack of wild coeurls lurking near it, and you shudder, dismounting the bird and unwrapping Noctis from the wrap on your chest. You free the other cats from their bags as well and tie the chocobo to one of the trees at the edge of the forest. You gulp as you look from the four small cats to their wild, vicious counterparts. 

“Yikes,” you say as you crouch and load your crossbow. “I’m not sure how many of them I can take out without them noticing.” 

Noctis hisses low in his throat, flattens his ears, and straight-up _bolts_ after the couerls, with his entourage all yelping in surprise. In a brilliant flash of blue light, a host of weapons materializes and swirls around the small cat as he leaps at the herd, directing his swords at the shrieking animals—within seconds, the couerls are all dead, and the coast is clear. Noctis looks back at and meows triumphantly. 

Stunned, you look to the other cats. “Okay, can he—you guys can _do_ that?” 

Ignis furrows his fuzzy brow and sure enough, two large daggers drop in front of him. He meows pitifully and dematerializes them. 

You watch as Prompto summons a large gun, and Gladio summons a sword that is bigger than you. They stare at their weapons for a few sad seconds before sending them back into Noct’s Armiger. 

“So Noct is the only one with the,” you twirl your finger, “Swirly thing. Got it.” 

Ignis blinks yes. 

You sigh. “Should I accompany you into the tomb, or...” 

Ignis blinks no. 

“Right, I might draw a lot of attention. You guys might get away with it almost unnoticed."

Prompto purrs and rubs up on your legs. 

“Okay, you guys be careful in there. If you’re not out in an hour, I’m coming to get you.” 

Gladio hums in agreement and leads Ignis and Prompto to Noctis and the entrance of the tomb. You climb the tree that the chocobo is tethered to, crossbow still nocked with an arrow, as you keep the time with your watch. The afternoon passes quickly, and you watch nervously as other wild creatures appear in the field, sniffing around the tomb’s entrance—but just as the hour is drawing to a close, you see the four tiny cats burst forth, running at breakneck speed to the entrance of the forest. Noctis summons his weapons—you notice that there is one more in his swirling repertoire than before—cutting through the dualhorn that’s lurking near the forest’s edge. You drop to the ground and gather the cats up in your arms—their tiny hearts are beating fast, and they immediately purr and meow with excitement as they nuzzle into you. 

“You really did it,” you cry as you hug the four boys. “Now, let’s get back home.” 

Night has fallen now, along with a few snow flurries. The fire is raging, and you and all the boys are huddled up on your couch in front of the fire. You’d returned the chocobo to Stella unharmed, and had splurged on some ready-made meals for yourself and store-bought cat food for the boys. One of your large books on magic is spread open on your lap, and while you’re feeling elated that the boys were able to get another one of the ancient weapons into Noct’s furry paws, the fact that the boys were on the verge of losing their humanity is still plaguing you. 

“I am just still so puzzled about how to cure you,” you say softly. Noctis and Prompto are curled up on top of one another at your feet; Gladio is sprawled out on the back of the couch, and Ignis is on your lap, behind the book in your hands. You feel him lick your fingers, and you put the book down to scratch at his ears. “You’re such a sweet boy,” you coo. “So quick to give kisses.” You idly think about what the human Ignis’ kisses are like; when suddenly, it hits you like a ton of bricks. “Kisses,” you repeat slowly, looking at Ignis’ sharp green eyes. “Not a Maiden’s Kiss potion, but...” 

Ignis chirps and blinks, once for yes. 

“Well, it’s worth a shot. Come here,” you say as you close the book and set it on the floor. Heart pounding, you lift the sandy blond cat in your hands and press a kiss to his furry little mouth. 

In an explosion of smoke, Ignis the human man is now sprawled out on you rug—fully naked, you note with wide eyes—and blinking in confusion. He looks around the room, then finally at you—and at his three companions, who have awoken in the midst of the commotion. 

“I,” rasps Ignis. He clears his throat and adjusts his glasses. “I do believe you’ve done it.” 

Oh, that _accent_. You feel warmth spread from your toes all the way up to your ears. You look from Ignis to the other cats, who are staring at you. Without any more hesitation, you place kisses on each of their mouths—and smoke swirls around your living room as Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio turn back into their normal, human selves. 

Noctis coughs up one last hairball as he stands, on shaky legs, to take in his surroundings. He observes his hands, touches all over his face, hair, and torso, before turning to his friends, who are doing the same. They step close and begin to touch each other, crying quiet relief, exchanging light kisses and soothing words. All you can do is stand outside of their circle, pleased that you’d finally figured out their cure—but, it’s hard to concentrate with four very attractive, and very naked, men in the middle of your living room. You cough, and say in a quiet voice, “I’ll, uh. Leave you guys alone for a moment.” 

Noctis moves from kissing Prompto breathless to peer around his friend and gaze at you through half-lidded eyes. “Our little herbalist,” he says in a husky voice. “Please allow us to thank you.” 

The others turn to face you, and—Astrals, is it even legal for men to be this attractive—or well-endowed? “Oh, that’s...it’s nothing,” you say, hanging your head. You’re aware that your face must be ten shades of red by now. “It was my pleasure to serve my prince and my country...” 

“Been a long time since we’ve had fun with a woman,” Gladio half-growls. “C’mon, sweetheart. You’ve been a real lifesaver these past few days.” 

You can feel his body heat as Gladio steps close to you; he places his large fingers under your chin and tilts your head up so you can look in his—very human—honey-amber eyes. He grins wolfishly and even licks his lips. 

“Please,” he purrs. “You’ve taken care of us. Now let us take care of you.” 

“Gladio, be gentle,” Ignis chastises. 

“I, uh...” you swallow thickly. “You don’t...surely you don’t want someone like me. I’m not even that pretty, and uh, you guys seem to be...close...with each other...” 

“It’s not like we’re gonna get jealous,” Prompto quips as he appears. “We’re all...what’s the word, Iggy?” 

“Polyamorous, as it were,” says Ignis as he lays a hand on Noct’s shoulder. “Of course, should you truly wish it, we will not lay a hand on you. However, you’re quite adorable,” the adviser continues, blushing a little. “We would very much like to show our thanks.” 

You look back up at Gladio, and then to Prompto, Ignis, and Noctis. Swallowing nervously, and trying to ignore the way that the space between your thighs is getting warmer, you nod. “Okay, if...if you’re sure. You guys know where the bedroom is.” You step away from Gladio and make your way towards the back of your house, naked prince and his retainers following close behind. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very human prince and his retainers show you how grateful they are for your help

Noctis kisses with every ounce of power that he has. You barely have time to turn back to the prince and his company when you reach your bedroom before he pounces on you like a cat on a mouse. You gasp, which only prompts Noctis to shove his tongue further into your mouth. His strong arms wrap around your back, holding you to him—you melt in his embrace, giving everything you have to him. How long has it been since you’ve been kissed? Not for a while, and certainly not like this. You feel hot tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, and you choke back a quiet sob—Noct pulls away, his blue eyes shimmering a dark shade of crimson. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, voice heady with lust. He cants his slender hips forward, and— _oh,_ he’s more than ready for you. 

“I’m--fine, your Highness—Noct, I just...been a while since I’ve been kissed, and... having you all here as...as humans...” You sniff. “I’m sorry. I’m just...surely you noticed how the general population interacts with me. Half of them are scared of me, the other half tolerate me just enough to not burn my house down...” You look up into Noct’s piercing gaze. “Are you sure you want someone like me?” 

Noct places a gentle kiss on your lips and smiles. “You’ve been nothing but kind and selfless to us. Why wouldn’t we want you?” His fingers dance along the edge of your thin pajamas. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” he murmurs. 

“Oh! Uh...sure.” You strip quickly, blushing in front of your four-person audience. Once you’re fully naked, you keep your head down, muttering shyly, “So...um. How do you want to...” 

“Me first,” says Noctis, licking his lips as he tilts your chin up. 

“You’re such a greedy brat,” growls Gladio. 

Prompto whines, “Hurry up, Noct.” 

“Hey. You guys occupy yourselves while I have my fun,” Noctis quips. He shrugs. “Or, y’know. You could just watch.” Noctis pulls you to the bed, and you very quickly get lost in more of his sweet kisses. He can’t seem to get enough of you—he grabs your heavy breasts, soft, squishy tummy, and thick thighs. He kisses you breathless, moaning into your mouth as he grinds his cock against your soft folds. It’s been so long—when Noctis moves his hand to thumb along your slit, you spread your legs instantly, and he groans with how wet and ready you are. 

“___________,” mutters Noct as he sucks a bruise into your neck. “Please, please let me take you...” 

“Anything, my prince,” you gasp as his rough hands tease your clit. 

He sits up on his haunches and grabs your legs, positioning you more on the center of your bed. You flop your head to the side—Prompto, Gladio, and Ignis are seated on your chaise lounge, cocks at attention, eyes laser-focused on you and Noctis. They’re not making any move to touch themselves or each other. Your face burns red at the thought of having an audience—Noct's hand settles on your throat in a light choke and you gasp, turning back to the prince. 

“Look at me. You are mine right now.” 

“Yes, Highness,” you moan as you feel Noctis begin to push into you. He’s got your ankles resting on his shoulders, and you can’t help but admire the tanned, lean muscle of the prince of Lucis. Noctis is like a wet dream, outrageously gorgeous, and the fact that he wants you like this is overwhelming. You squeeze your eyes tight and choke out a sob as he pushes into you. “Oh, _Noctis_!” 

“Shit, you’re so fucking _tight_ ,” Noct all but cries as he buries himself balls-deep. “Shit, shit...” 

“Loosen her up, princess,” calls Gladio; and that seems to spur a small sense of competition in Noctis as he leans over you, holding himself up with one arm, and drags himself out to the tip, slamming back in. 

You scream out loudly at the sheer size of him, the sensation of not being taken in so long, the fact that it’s _Noctis_... you let your body fall limp and keep your mouth open and slack to breathe—Noctis seems content to keep his hand around your neck. You gasp and moan, crying tears of ecstasy under him as the prince takes you—you lose all track of time until you hear a feral groan rip from Noct’s throat, feel his thighs quiver and his hips stutter as he spills into you. He releases his hand from your throat and falls on top of you, sighing into your big, soft body. He’s breathing hard—you lift your arm to place it on his back, soft fingers dancing over his scarred skin. 

“Heh,” Noctis whispers. “Just like when I was a cat, huh?” 

“You were the cutest cat, Noct,” you giggle. “Was I...was that okay?” 

“You fuckin’ kiddin’,” Noct mutters into your sweaty skin. “That was the best.” He clears his throat. “Gladio, come...I can’t move...” 

You turn to look at the guys on the couch—Gladio stands up in one fluid motion, chest heaving and eyes dark with lust. He scoops Noctis up in his arms like he weighs nothing and brings him to Ignis. Noctis curls up, sleepy and satiated, on his adviser’s lap—Gladio grabs Prompto by the wrist and leads him to the bed. 

You’ve never been taken by more than one man at time, so being spitroasted by Prompto and Gladio is a whole new experience. Prompto’s got his long, slender trigger fingers wrapped up in your hair, guiding himself in and out of your mouth. His pale, freckled body is flushed, and his short but thick cock is a heavy, grounding weight in your mouth. Your jaw is getting tired with the effort of keeping your mouth wide, and your chin is slicked with precum and spit, but all you can do is moan around Prompto’s shaft as he claims your mouth. 

There’s no breaks, either, because Gladio’s got his massive cock buried in your pussy from behind, large hands settled on your wide, soft hips to help ease himself along. His stamina is incredible, and his primal groans and Prompto’s needy, high-pitched whines are only making you wetter. You’ve lost track of how many orgasms you’ve had—Gladio had graciously slowed his rhythm earlier and bent down low, reaching under you to finger your clit until you were shaking between him and the slender blond. 

Prompto holds your hair firmly but not roughly as he chases his release. “You’re so good for us, ___________,” he whines. “Gods, you’re so beautiful, and kind...we’re so lucky to have found you...” 

You moan around his cock, and the final vibrations of your throat seeming to do him in, as he gasps breathlessly, coming white hot into your mouth. You gulp and swallow all of him, sucking until he’s moaning and pulling away, over sensitive. As if he’d sensed it, Ignis is beside your bed in an instant, catching a boneless Prompto into his arms and carrying him to the couch to a dozing Noctis. The bespectacled adviser grins devilishly at you as he patiently waits for Gladio to have his fill. 

Seeing Prompto come undone must have been a breaking point for the shield, because Gladio pushes your face into your mattress and mounts you for a final few minutes, bucking into you like the world is ending, coming with a loud grunt as he shoots his load into your over-sensitive core, adding to Noct’s earlier release. You collapse on the bed, but he quickly flips you over and kisses you hungrily. 

“Thanks for the great time, sweetheart,” Gladio purrs as he climbs off the bed, warm and sticky in the afterglow. “Be sweet for Iggy, okay?” 

“Sure,” you rasp, throat all scratchy from taking Prompto’s cock. You watch as Ignis gives Gladio a gentle kiss as the shield lowers himself on your chaise lounge to cuddle the two younger men; and then the tall, poised adviser is sauntering to your bed, full lips curled into a soft smile as he looks at your blissed-out, used, and thoroughly-fucked body. 

“Good evening, kitten,” Ignis coos—and isn’t that some irony? 

You manage a small laugh as Ignis moves to straddle you. “Hey,” you say a little awkwardly, not really sure what you’re supposed to talk about now that he’s human again. “Uh, thanks for—you helped, you know, with the...curse-breaking thing.” 

Ignis shrugs. “You’re brilliant, and I knew you’d figure it out eventually.” His sharp green eyes are still full of that quiet fire, but he’s also gazing down at you in heated lust. “Please allow me to show my appreciation.” 

You nod, licking your lips, wondering what position he’s going to take you in. He grabs your hand helps you sit up, and then he lies down, and—ah, he wants _you_ to straddle _him._ “Hey, Iggy, I really want to, but...” 

“Oh, you _can_ ,” Ignis retorts. “I am going to help you.” Ignis grabs your chubby little hands in his and interlocks your fingers, holding your weak arms up with his lean strong ones as he gets you in position to ride him. “Are you ready?” 

“I’ll do my best,” you whisper quietly, not sure how much more pleasure your body can take, but being all the more willing to try for someone as beautiful as Ignis. 

Iggy’s stamina is incredible—he's doing an absolute bang-up job of making up for your core strength as your thick thighs hug his slender hips. He grinds up into your soft, pliant body in tandem with your slowly rotating hips. He feels amazing at this angle, long, curved cock fitting so easily into your wide, open core; and he’s already come once, but he shows little sign of slowing down. He slows his thrusts for a bit as he moves to sit up on his heels, prompting you to lock your ankles around his chiseled back—Ignis holds you to his front, soft, heavy breasts against hard pecs as he rocks his hips forward and up into your body. 

“You feel so bloody good,” Ignis purrs. “I knew you’d be able to handle us all. What a good girl.” 

You choke out a breathless moan at the praise, hugging him close, burying your face in his smooth, pale neck as you go limp in his arms, relying on his strength alone to hold the both of you up. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it, Specs?” Noct’s voice rings out somewhere in the distance. 

Ignis grunts at the sound of his conscious prince, hips moving faster and faster. “Yes,” he keens, gripping your soft form tighter. 

“Keep going Iggy, she can take it,” Gladio follows affectionately. “Isn’t her skin so soft, her pussy so open and inviting...” 

“Gods,” Ignis breathes, sucking a mark into your neck. “Fuck, __________, I’m so close...” 

“Let yourself go, Igster. C’mon, give her what she wants,” Prompto moans—and with that, Ignis floods himself into you with a sharp cry. 

He falls forward on your bed, pinning you underneath him as his long, lithe body quakes in the aftershocks of his orgasm. You hold onto him until he finally pulls out and flops to the side, spent. 

You feel as though you could pass out for a week. You and all of the guys have finally showered, and Noctis and Prompto are cuddling with you in your bed. Gladio’s passed out on the couch in the living room, and Ignis is dozing on the chaise lounge chair in the bedroom. You’d managed to find some loose pairs of pants and socks that they could wear until they were reunited with their clothes—you're no stranger to the occasional wandering traveler, and you find yourself either making the odd shirt or pair of shorts, or picking up various sizes of things at the little secondhand shop, just in case you come across anyone in need; and the guys were ever so grateful for the clothing. You yawn and snuggle further under the blankets between the prince and his best friend, still trying to wrap your head around recent events, and you eventually fall into a deep, satisfied sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter will be a little epilogue, going into some WoR territory


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you played the game, then you know how it all ends.

Five years after first meeting Prince Noctis and his friends, and you’ve only heard from them a handful of times—but you _know_ that tragedy had struck the world the day that the sun didn’t rise. The forest surrounding your home is littered with daemons, and you rarely venture out—only to hunt, but even small game like rabbits and squirrels are becoming rare. Most people have abandoned the town, travelling days on end to get to strongholds in Lestallum and elsewhere—but for some reason, you feel compelled to stay. Your magic is weak in the long, dark years—but you’re holding out hope that you’re going to see the prince, or any of his friends, even one more time. 

You’re jolted from a deep sleep, ripe with vivid dreams and visions of the turbulent outside world. The knock on the door is repeated and deafening. Your heart begins thumping hard immediately—you haven’t seen another person in over a year. You light a candle and hurriedly pull on a robe, socked feet padding softly across your house. You step up to the door, jarred candle flickering in one hand while you place the other one on the lock. 

“Who is it?” you answer through a yawn. “State your business. I’ll have you know I’ll not be trifled with. If you’re here to loot or poach, you’ve got the wrong house.” 

“I really don’t think I have the wrong house, _____________,” says a familiar voice on the other side of the door. “I’d know this little witchy cottage anywhere.” 

“Prompto?!” You flick the locks and fling open the door—and he’s older, with shorter hair, a goatee, deep circles under his eyes, and bulkier muscle—but it’s the sunshine boy, no doubt about it. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Prompto says quietly. “Can, I uh, come in?” 

“Oh, yes, yes...of course!” You step aside and Prompto enters. You close the door and lock it back, leading him to your old wooden table. You set the candle down and light the others that are on the table, digging out some bread and salted meat from your cabinets. “Sorry, Prom, I only turn on my generator in extreme emergencies.” 

“No, that’s totally fine, I uh. I get it.” He’s silent for several long seconds, even after you’ve put a plate of food in front of him. You set a glass of room temperature tea beside the plate, and then you hear him sniff hard—and realize that he’s crying. 

“Tell me what’s wrong, love,” you say as you slide next to him on the bench. 

Prompto collapses into your arms and sobs—he smells like gasoline, gunpowder, musk, and blood. You can only hope that the blood isn’t his. Prompto cries into you for a long time—but eventually, he comes to. You’re petting through his soft blond hair as he begins to tell you everything that happened since you’d met them. 

“So—let me get this right. Noctis disappeared... _into_ the crystal? And we don’t know when he’s coming back? And Ignis is blind from using the Ring of the Lucii. And the Starscourge...well, that’s pretty self-explanatory. I figured that one out myself.” 

“You always were intuitive,” Prompto chuckles lightly. 

“Why are you here? Is everything...I mean you guys are all right, aren’t you? Rescuing people, fighting daemons...sounds like you’re keeping everything together. For him.” 

“Ye-yeah, I just...” Prompto chokes. “It’s so hard to not have him here, y’know? He was my best friend, my...I mean, we were all _boyfriends_ , ____________. It’s not the same without him. Gladio and Iggy, I love them, and I know they love me, but...” 

“Noctis was your catalyst,” you nod in understanding. “The glue. He was your special piece. A car doesn’t run very well on three wheels.” 

Prompto nods and begins to mechanically eat the bread and meat you’ve set out for him. “So uh,” he says between bites. “What about you?” 

You shrug. “I’m doing the best that I can. What magic is in me has been severely weakened in the dark, but my protective charms around the house still hold. I only go out to hunt—” you nod to the meat on Prompto’s plate—“maybe once or twice a week. It’s a good thing I got so good at canning when I was a teenager.” 

Prompto finishes his meal and guzzles the lavender tea. “I’m glad you’re safe. The guys and I talk about you all the time. We always meant to come back and visit, but after Altissia...and Gralea...things just kind of started going downhill and never stopped. They snowballed, and with Noct gone, we were all just in crisis mode. But we haven’t forgotten about you.” 

You smile and pat Prompto’s arm. “I’ve never forgotten about you four,” you say softly. “My four little cat friends. Life got boring after you left.” 

“Wish I was a cat right now,” says Prompto sadly. “It’s—it’s so hard. There’s not one second I’m not thinking about Noct, and about how much...how much I _miss_ him.” 

You cup Prompto’s face in your hands and kiss his forehead softly. “I know I’m not him,” you say quietly. “But...maybe I can comfort you. If only for a little bit.” 

Prompto stares into your eyes and nods, closing the distance between the two of you as he catches your mouth in a heated kiss. 

Some hours later, you awake with Prompto in your bed, the two of you naked and warm. Prompto senses your movement and turns over, gathering you to himself. He kisses you like he can’t get enough—a mixture of stress, love, hurting, and comfort all rolled into one. You meet his movements, letting your fingers dance over his changed body—fingertips lingering over new scars and bruises. You pull away and begin to kiss every new mark that you find, which draws sighs of affection from Prompto’s chapped, pink lips. 

“You should be more careful,” you say as you kiss a particularly knotted scar on his abs. 

Prompto shudders with the tender touch. “Sometimes—I wish—it'd be easier to just let myself get so beat up beyond saving—” 

“Nah, ah, nope,” you say as you continue to kiss lower. “There will be no talk of dying in this house. Would Noct want you to die?” 

“...No,” Prompto answers quietly. 

“Then stop thinking like that.” You scoot back up to face Prompto and he pulls you into his arms—you feel his cock twitch in interest and you giggle. He pulls you on top of him and makes love to you a second time. 

The only way you know the passing of days is by the clunker of a cell phone you’d acquired shortly before the world went dark. You charge it when you have your generator on, and it’s hooked up to the spotty service that’s still running out in Lestallum. It’s a pretty basic phone, and you have some internet access, but not much. There’s not enough space for apps, but there is a number that you call every few days to get automated updates on the state of the country. According to the phone, Prompto’s been with you for two days. He’s helped you hunt—he brought down a wild boar and helped you skin it. You salt and pickle the meat, canning it and storing it in your fridge, and boil the bones for broth. Prompto cleans the hide and hangs it up to dry, making new bags and straps from the leather. It’s a weird sort of domesticity that you’ve settled into, and although you know it’s not going to last, you’re cherishing every moment you have with him. You brew up more potions and elixirs for him to store in the Armiger—Noct is still alive, at least, if Prompto has access to the magical space where his weapons are kept. You patch up Prompto’s clothes while he’s there, make sure that he eats more than dried military rations. And you have to admit—it’d been a long time since you’d been intimate, and Prompto’s body fits like a glove against yours. You can’t help but miss the affections of the other three—and you think you might start to understand how alone Prompto feels. 

“So, the whole reason I came out here,” says Prompto the second night he’s in your bed, cuddling you in the sweaty, sticky aftermath of another bout of lovemaking. “The whole reason I came out here...was to find you.” Prompto runs his fingers across your soft, chubby body and squeezes lovingly. “You were one of the first people we thought of after the star went dark. But we were fighting so much, helping so many other people...we were worried, but—Iggy thought you might’ve been handling yourself well. I’m glad you proved him right. But we don’t know how long this is going to go on, and the three of us would feel better if you came to Lestallum, or Hammerhead.” 

You sigh, having anticipated Prompto’s request. You knew it wasn’t coincidence that he had showed up at your cottage. “If you have a place for me to stay, then I’m game, I guess.” 

“It’s not much, the three of us have an apartment in Lestallum that we use as a base. We’re in and out for weeks at a time, fighting, but—we would just feel better. You can take whatever you need, we’ll find room for it.” 

You shake your head, sighing into Prompto’s broad chest. “I’ve had most of my essentials packed for a while. There’s not much for an herbalist to do when flowers don’t grow. I’m down to a very bare supply, but—who's buying, besides? You’re the first human I’ve seen in a year.” 

“Who knows,” says Prompto. “Maybe you can set up a stall in the market in the city? Money’s not used much anymore, we mostly trade. I can give you a list of supplies Iggy and Gladio use most often, so you can keep a lookout? I do know a few farmers who have cultivated greenhouses with artificial light. I’m sure you can get with them to grow what you need.” 

____________ 

It’s not much, but it’s home, now. Gladio was overjoyed at your safety, and so was Ignis—and they made sure to let you know how much they missed you. Prompto’s advice proved to be actually fruitful...there were more people in the city than you anticipated who used natural remedies, especially since commercial goods were becoming more and more scarce as the years dragged on. You often went for weeks at a time without seeing the bros, but you were more than happy to wait for them. You had your own stall in the market, and several refugees from your town found their way to you. Past prejudices were long forgotten in this time of crisis, and you formed new bonds with your former neighbors, doing your best to educate them and trade with fair bargains. 

___________ 

The day that Prompto barges into the apartment, when you’re making a large pot of herbal stew on the stove, chattering excitedly about _Noctis_ being back—you're simultaneously happy and devastated. While Noct in the crystal was a presence missed...Noctis in the flesh means light for the world but at the ultimate cost. The gods had revealed the visions of the last battle with Ardyn to you multiple times, and though you’d tried to intercede, there was no way for the Chosen King to be spared. You were sure that Noct was going to tell them his fate, so you’d kept it a secret from the guys as long as you’d lived at the Lestallum apartment. Besides, Prompto’s excitement is too cute to crush, so you embrace him and grab a spare change of clothes, hopping into Prompto’s truck and driving with him to Hammerhead. 

The last night, before the final preparations are made, you let the four of them take you again, like they did so long ago in your cabin after you’d broken the status effect gone wrong. The five of you are crying in the aftermath, hugging each other and reveling in the feel of hot skin on skin as long as you can manage. Sometime during the night, you wake up, and slip from between Noct’s and Iggy’s arms, letting the bros have their last moments together. 

___________ 

The sunlight is blinding. Ten years without the sun is a long fucking time, and you’re determined never to take it for granted again. It’s a hard-fought battle, but you finally convince Gladio to drive you back to your remote village, back to your little cottage, to try to continue your life. You adopt ten stray cats. Three of them are black and they’re all named Noctis. 

You make it six months before you dig out your old dinosaur of a cell phone and call Prompto, crying uncontrollably. He helps you move to Insomnia, into the house that the three of them are sharing. Your herbalist business is small, but Ignis helps you with all of the legal matters, and you make a modest living for yourself. You sometimes see Noctis, in dreams. It’s bittersweet. The Starscourge and Ardyn are gone. There’s no more war. You’re living with three men that you love more deeply than life itself, and they’ve accepted you with open arms. Ignis doesn’t even care about all the cats, and he always seems to know when he’s holding one of the Noctis triplets. Years later, when you become pregnant with Prompto’s baby, well—he's got black hair. And no one objects to a fourth Noctis Lucis Caelum in the house. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this was sad, guys—but I hope you enjoyed it anyway.


End file.
